


sunday morning

by isawet



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Background Wynonna, F/F, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-27 00:12:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15674106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isawet/pseuds/isawet
Summary: Soft mornings after late nights. (PWP, fluff)





	sunday morning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheGaySmurf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGaySmurf/gifts).



> shoutout to my smurf! she came up with the whole premise and beta-ed.

_An hour at the most_ , is what Nicole had said. She sighs, her hand cramping as she finishes the last of her report. _One last short call,_ she’d promised at the station, smoothing Waverly’s hair as she wrestled her jacket on. She’d be at the homestead before Waverly knew it, keep a plate warm in the oven for her. And instead, she’s just barely finished at almost three in the morning, exhaustion making her eyes gritty and her hair limp. Too tired to put her hat on, wrung out as she slides behind the wheel of her car and points it to Waverly. To home.

The door squeaks when she opens it, and she clomps her boots on the mat in front of the door to shake out the worst of the snow and the gravel. It shuts behind her, muting the cooing of nighttime birds and the singing of nighttime insects, and she moves through the living room by memory instead of turning on the lights, bending over with a soft groan to kick her boots off and leave them against the wall before heading up the stairs. There’s a glow of light under Waverly’s door, faint, but when she eases the door open and slips inside, it’s just the lamp on the bedside table, Waverly a still lump under the covers. 

Nicole’s fingers fumble at the buttons of her uniform shirt, clumsy tired, and her belt clinks when she undoes it and lets it fall before she sighs and picks it up, unwilling to leave her weapon lying half under the bed. She’s not Wynonna. But she does leave a small pile of clothing on the floor, her jacket and her pants and her shirt, her bra. 

Waverly stirs when she hears the dresser open. “Babe?” she mumbles, her voice thick with sleep, groggy. 

“Yeah,” Nicole soothes, tugging a soft tank over her head before turning to the bed. “It’s me.”

“S’late,” Waverly slurs, and lifts the duvet up for Nicole to burrow under, curling against the warmth of Waverly’s body to chase the crisp snap of winter air away. She drops a kiss to the back of Waverly’s neck, then wrinkles her nose at the mess of hair that tickles against her face. 

“Sorry,” she whispers. “I would have texted I was headed back, but it was late.”

Waverly rolls over to tuck her nose into the hollow of Nicole’s throat. “Did you eat?”

Nicole loops an arm around Waverly’s shoulders to tug her closer, rubbing at Waverly’s back in a slow gentle circle. “Too tired.”

“Gotta eat,” Waverly says, but her voice lists towards the end, already falling back asleep. “... strength to...” she trails off.

“Mmhm,” Nicole says, feeling her body relax into the mattress, feeling Waverly breathe gently against her. 

“Kill the bastards,” Waverly mumbles, and then snores a little. Moonlight is slanting through the window, pale and soft and just enough to make out the slopes of Waverly’s face, the rise and fall of her chest and their hands tangled together.

++

Nicole wakes up early, drifting up from a fuzzy dream she can’t remember. She’s still tired, can feel it in the heaviness of her eyelids and the lingering soreness in her muscles. But she’s also warm, cocooned in blankets and the comforting weight of an arm slung across her waist. When she turns her head, her vision blurs, Waverly’s face too close to focus. They’re sharing one pillow; Nicole’s left foot is tucked between Waverly’s calves. 

She should get up--she can hear someone who is hopefully Wynonna and not a strangely themed Revenant banging around in the kitchen downstairs. She’s got laundry to do and cat food to buy and a thick folder from Dolls to review… but. But she needs these, too; these moments where everything is quiet and soft and light and all the warmth is between their bodies. So she watches Waverly sleep, the relaxed lines of her face and the tickle of her exhale across Nicole’s cheek. Watches Waverly wake up, the slow, long, muzzy blinks, and the long few seconds before her eyes clear and focus. The way she smiles when she sees Nicole looking. A sleep-sour kiss hello. 

“G’morning,” Nicole murmurs.

Below them, there’s the clear sound of something glass breaking and Wynonna cussing.

“It is because you’re here.” Waverly wrinkles her nose. “Was that too schmoopy? I don’t want to be too much with the schmoop.”

“I like your schmoop,” Nicole says, and ducks closer for another kiss. 

The unmistakable sound of a gunshot echoes from just outside the window. Waverly and Nicole pause, millimeters apart. “Everything’s fine!” Wynonna yells distantly. Waverly and Nicole wait another six beats, but there’s no other sounds of strife.

“We should,” Waverly starts reluctantly, but melts when Nicole touches her hip under the sheets. 

“We should,” Nicole agrees, but slips her hand up below Waverly’s sleep shirt to trace Waverly’s ribs. 

Waverly shivers. “Evidence points to her being out of the house.”

“Mm,” Nicole hums. She drags a nail over Waverly’s skin, and Waverly’s breath catches. “You know I like it when you talk cop at me.”

“Deputy Haught,” Waverly says, high pitched and breathy, and she laughs when Nicole rolls over her, kicking the blankets and sheets to the floor. “Now I’m cold,” she pouts.

“I’ll warm you up,” Nicole promises, and kisses her again, harder and deeper and with a longing, always with a longing. Doesn’t matter how long they’ll be together, however long a forever promise means in Purgatory. Nicole won’t ever stop wanting her. 

Waverly’s hands pluck at the hem of Nicole’s tank top and she disengages just long enough to yank it over her head and cast it aside. She shivers, the chill of air on her bare chest, but the heat of Waverly’s mouth and her palms chases it away. Waverly sucks a mark into the skin above her heart, and Nicole shivers for an entirely different reason; she twines one hand in Waverly’s messy morning curls to pull her closer. Then she tugs Waverly’s head back. “You’re makin’ me feel underdressed.”

“Can’t have that,” Waverly agrees, and her smile is wide and brighter than the sun. They roll around a little on the bed, trying to get naked, but distracted by skin and kissing and giggly groping.

And then they are naked, side by side in the sun coming through the window. Waverly’s hand on her cheek, and Nicole’s leg slung over Waverly’s waist. “Is…” Waverly asks tentatively. “Is it always like this? With girls, I mean.” She straddles Nicole, rocking lazily and indulgently, the friction and the pressure of their bodies pressed close. “It feels lighter. Has it always been like this for you?”

Sometimes Nicole can feel her love for Waverly like a wound, an ache in her chest that goes sharper the harder she loves her. “Nothing has ever been like this for me,” she whispers, and her voice rasps with truth of it, cracking in the middle. Her hand up the inside of Waverly’s thigh and her fingers between them and Waverly’s hitch-gasp sliding into a soft moan. “You’re warm,” Nicole whispers, lower and rougher, changing the tone.

Waverly readjusts, grinding, the muscles of her abdomen in sharp relief and rippling as she moves. “Okay?” she asks, a little bit of worried nervousness still in her eyes.

Nicole sits up to kiss her--they both shudder at the change in position. “Perfect,” Nicole says, and her hand seeks out Waverly’s like they were made hold each other. She guides Waverly’s hand down, and then it’s just them, their panted breathing, the sweat-slick slide of their skin, the wet noises of their fingers moving in tandem.

(And later, in the afterglow, Wynonna throwing a shoe at the door and yelling something about eggs.)

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you think and catch me on tumblr @ sunspill


End file.
